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The Bent Twig
Paperback
Publisher: Nicolebooks
Published: Sep 2 2026
Pages: 492
Weight: 1.44
Height: 0.99 Width: 6.00 Depth: 9.00
Language: English
ike most happy childhoods, Sylvia's early years lay back of her in a long,
cheerful procession of featureless days, the outlines ofwhichwere blurred
into one shimmering glow by the very radiance of their sunshine. Here and
there she remembered patches, sensations, pictures, scents: Mother holding
baby sister up for her to kiss, and the fragrance of the baby powder-the pine-
trees near the house chanting loudly in an autumn wind-her father's alert
face, intent on the toy water-wheel he was setting for her in the little creek
in their field-the beautiful sheen of the pink silk dress Aunt Victoria had
sent her-the look of her mother's steady, grave eyes when she was so sick-
the leathery smell of the books in the University Library one day when she
followed her father there-the sound of the rain pattering on the low, slant-
ing roof of her bedroom-these were the occasional clearly outlined, bright-
colored illuminations wrought on the burnished gold of her sunny little life.
But from her seventh birthday her memories began to have perspective, con-
tinuity. She remembered an occasional whole scene, a whole afternoon, just
as it happened.
3 DOROTHY CANFIELD FISHER
The first of these must have marked the passing of some unrecognized men-
tal milestone, for there was nothing about it to set it apart from any one of a
hundred afternoons. It may have been the first time she looked at what was
about her, and saw it.
Mother was putting the baby to bed for his nap-not the baby-sister-she was
a big girl of five by this time, but another baby, a little year-old brother, with
blue eyes and yellow hair, instead of brown eyes and hair like his two sisters'.
And when Mother stooped over the little bed, her white fichu fell forward
and Sylvia leaned to hold it back from the baby's face, a bit of thoughtfulness
which had a rich reward in a smile of thanks from Mother. That was what
began the remembered afternoon. Mother's smiles were golden coin, not
squandered on every occasion. Then, she and Mother and Judith tiptoed
out of the bedroom into Mother's room and there stood Father, with his
University clothes on and yet his hair rather rumpled up, as though he had
been teaching very hard. He had a pile of papers in his hand and he said,
Barbara, are you awfully busy just now?
Mother said, Oh no, she wasn't at all. (She never was busy when Father
asked her to do something, although Sylvia could not remember ever once
having seen her sit and do nothing, no, not even for a minute!) Then Fa-
ther said, Well, if you could run over these, I'd have time to have some ball
with the seminar after they're dismissed. These are the papers the Freshmen
handed in for that Economics quiz. Mother said, Sure she could, or the
equivalent of that, and Father thanked her, turned Judith upside-down and
right-side-up again so quick that she didn't know what had happened, and
left them all laughing as they usually were when Father ran down from the
study for something.
So Sylvia and Judith, quite used to this procedure, sat down on the floor
with a book to keep them quiet until Mother should be through. Neither
of them could read, although Sylvia was beginning to learn, but they had
been told the stories so many times that they knew them from the pictures.
The book they looked at that day had the story of the people who had rowed
4 DOROTHY CANFIELD FISHER
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